


Devotion

by BashfulGnome



Series: 5 Years of Wrecking [3]
Category: Wreck-It Ralph (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-15 15:25:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16935774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BashfulGnome/pseuds/BashfulGnome
Summary: Life in the arcade has a way of sparking unique flames. Tamora and Felix reflect on their relationship and some special memories.





	Devotion

**Author's Note:**

> Original post date: Nov. 17, 2017
> 
> Original note: Week 3: Hero's Cuties! A short piece about Tamora and Felix's thoughts on how they came to be together, and some memories throughout their relationship. Enjoy!

Tamora wasn't sure what first attracted her to him. He was a nervous little guy, and looked like he'd fall over if she breathed on him too hard. But at the same time, he was quite earnest in his affection – few would have been courageous (or suicidal) enough to approach her with such sentiments. She'd never seen anyone so entranced at the sight of her before.

" _Jimminy jamminy! Look at that high definition—your face! It's amazing…"_

" _Flattery don't charge these batteries, civilian. Now state your business."_

Felix, for his part, had momentarily forgotten his own name; in his thirty years at the arcade he'd never laid eyes on anyone quite so gosh-darn captivating. He knew he wanted to—and had to—follow her, since half of the mess was his responsibility, but he didn't have the foggiest idea whether he could properly court such a formidable lady.

Even though at first glance, he didn't seem like the sort who could last five minutes in a life as chaotic as hers, he proved he could stand shoulder-to-shoulder with her where it really mattered. As much as he took to old-fashioned romantic gestures and was easily disturbed by violence, he'd be a fighter if it was required of him. Tamora later discovered he had pretty good aim once she'd taught him the basics of her game's weapons, even if the recoil was a bit much for the handyman sometimes.

" _You alright there? Damn thing almost took your shoulder clean off."_

" _Oh my land, ma'am…I did it!" he laughed as he got up. "That target's good and finished!"_

But Felix was in his element in the pleasant surroundings of Niceland, the kind of place where nobody bothered to lock their doors at night. It was there where he'd eventually built them a house not long before they married, after seeing her smack her head against one too many low doorways in his apartment. Tamora wasn't going to have to put up with a home where she couldn't rightly stand up. It was the least he could do to be the husband she deserved.

She appreciated the pleasant surroundings, a physical and psychological break from the stress of Hero's Duty. Unlike her rather austere living space in her game, the simplicity and peace of their home put her at ease, and the nightmares were less frequent there. She didn't know if it was the place itself or if Felix just made it so—he seemed to radiate an almost cloying, omnidirectional cheeriness, and she had to admit it was endearing.

" _You're smiling like you're up to something, soldier. What's so funny?"_

" _Ah, nothing. Just mighty pleased, is all."_

Felix found that Tamora was quite protective of him, which he initially figured was just a consequence of living in constant danger. It wasn't often that anyone really tried to cross him—and in the past he didn't leave his game very frequently anyway—but she'd throw one heck of a glare at anybody who looked like they were going to try anything. He wasn't allowed into Hero's Duty by himself until she'd trained him and provided him with his own weapon and armor. And she'd even saved him from several distressing conversations by unceremoniously picking him up and carrying him away without a word, leaving the other participant too confused to react. Of course, there was more to her habits than he realized.

Early on, she hated to have to bring up the topic of Brad, both for her own health and the knowledge that she didn't want to give that shortstack even more reason to worry about her. If she really wanted to probe her thoughts, at the core she was plagued with the suspicion that all of it—her game, her backstory, her abrasiveness, her mannerisms, Tamora  _herself_ —would scare him away. But he had been understanding, and listened to the whole story in silence. The handyman even shed some tears, and offered her a retreat from the warzone. That was when she started spending nights in his apartment in the first place. And it was when she discovered that a gentle voice, listening ear, and warm touch could make PTSD a little more bearable.

" _Fix-It, you've got more patience than even I'm capable of wasting."_

" _Tammy Jean, don't ever say that! You're always welcome here."_

He wanted to be able to provide Tamora with a comfortable life. The events that brought them together made him painfully aware that he was lucky to be without the troubles—both pre-programmed and lived—that many others suffered. Such an amazing lady deserved the best.

And she wanted to let him into her life, give him a chance. He was the real thing, after all, and so was their relationship. It was indescribably comforting to know that something like this wasn't just in her head.

As time passed, they didn't really notice the height difference much anymore. They'd both learned to accommodate it, whether in domestic tasks, intimacy, just walking through Game Central Station after-hours in search of adventure—it was natural for her to look down and meet his gaze on its way up.

" _Hey there, hon." She swatted down the bill of his hat. "You planning something for tonight?"_

_He pushed his hat back into place with a flick of his wrist. "It's a surprise, Tammy~!"_

Both of them enjoyed just resting there in each other's arms after lovemaking.

Tamora could hold all of Felix at once—it was a welcome result of his adorably small size—and it was just one of many things she loved about him. Burying her face in his hair and lightly tickling his sides elicited the cutest giggles from the handyman. Holding him brought her comfort, away from the dark corners of her own mind. His caresses were gentle and she would sigh as his hands doted on every inch of her. For her part, she went in for a deep kiss, gliding the tips of her curled fingers down the middle of his back as he shuddered under her touch. Without fail, he honeyglowed every time they were alone together like this, whenever he saw her enjoying herself.

Felix loved the feeling of Tamora holding him close. It made him feel cozy and safe, not to mention the contentment of knowing that his beloved wife was happy. For all her scars and muscle—oh, how he adored running his hands along them and hearing those relaxed sighs!—being enveloped in her arms was a surprisingly soft, warm sensation. The sergeant wasn't one to display her feelings excessively, so these intimate cuddles felt extra special.

And on that chilly night, as the evenings grew longer and the days slightly less hectic at Litwak's Arcade (well, until the calm ended and the holiday storm of gamers arrived) Tamora lay awake just to reminisce and have a few more hours with Felix before their time together would again become compromised by the duties their games imposed. They'd been together for five years now—around four as husband and wife—and she still couldn't believe how much things had changed for the better. One of these days she'd have to bring herself to thank Wreck-It for going Turbo in the first place.

"Time really flies, Felix. Tired of me yet?" Tamora smiled and pulled his hand towards her to kiss it.

Felix giggled and returned the gesture. "Oh you know I'm not, honeybadger, that's just silly. You could've had anyone in the arcade—gosh, anyone you wanted. I'm honored that you chose me."

His seriousness took her off-guard; it genuinely warmed her heart to hear those words out loud. Honeyglows of her own crept onto her cheeks as she ruffled his hair.

"Aww, you're killin' me here, babe. How am I supposed to follow that?"

"You don't have to. I just wanted to make sure you knew."

She chuckled. "You know I love you."

He nodded. "Love you too," he replied with a smile. "Whether we've got five more years here, or five hundred."

And once again, curling around Felix and pulling up the covers, Tamora was reminded of just how lucky they both were.


End file.
